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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27619678">It Comes and Goes In Waves</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Su1010/pseuds/Su1010'>Su1010</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Anxiety, Character Study, Happy Ending, Love, M/M, Pain, Panic Attack, Slight fluff, insecure</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 03:42:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,833</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27619678</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Su1010/pseuds/Su1010</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>All Atsumu Miya wanted was to be loved the way he loves. But when Sakusa Kiyoomi offers to do exactly that, Atsumu finds himself drifting away once more and this time there may be no return.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>271</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>It Comes and Goes In Waves</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So Sakuatsu live in my head rent fucking free now LMAO. On a side note, this fic was inspired by a tweet by @ymin_ii on Twitter who is my fellow Sakuatsu angst partner and never fails to amaze me with her amazing art (go check her art out!)  <a href="https://twitter.com/ymin_ii/status/1329011415802253312?s=19">This is the tweet</a></p><p>As usual, enjoy the angst and happy reading!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The bottle of orange juice had been out on the kitchen counter for far too long – beads of condensation adorning its narrow neck and Atsumu Miya felt a certain pain resonate within the four chambers of his heart when he realised both him and the fucking beverage were falling apart.</p><p>Swiping it off the counter, he chugged down the contents in three gulps and tossed the bottle into the waste paper basket without getting out of his seat, pulling out his phone and scrolling through Instagram instead.</p><p>Hinata’s story came up first and Atsumu despite all the willpower contained in his entire anatomy, decided to click on it and immediately regretted his decision. It was a boomerang of his teammates – he spotted Bokuto hugging Sakusa to his side in the background and Meian clapping Tomas on the back as the two laughed over something. Shion was drinking a bottle of cider and his face was morphed into one of slight horror when the bottle tilted just as Hinata took the boomerang and Atsumu couldn’t suppress his smile as he thought about how Hinata had probably screamed when the amber liquid had poured onto his bare legs. </p><p>The fan in the living room was winding down slowly, and it sounded like a soft sigh akin to the one that escaped Atsumu as he closed the app and threw his phone onto the couch. He hated nights like these – the clock ticking slowly reminding him of how fragile mortality was and how he was wasting his by thinking too much and analysing every single thing.<br/>
</p><p>Ever since he and Osamu were small, Atsumu was always the more cheerful one out of the pair and he smiled at everything and everyone – always the one who lightened the mood in any situation. As he grew up, he stuck to the façade he had adopted and had known his whole life – now using it as a coping mechanism to conceal all those thoughts in his head that him re-evaluating life at the worst moments. </p><p>They came in ripples, like raindrops falling on the roof of their dorm. One drop, then two, then ten and fifteen. Then it turned into a wave that engulfed him whole and he felt himself suffocating, drowning in a sea of thoughts that remained prisoner in the crevices of his grey matter and never saw the light of day. </p><p>Atsumu could simply be tossing to his teammates when a whisper would trail its way up his spine and wind itself around his ear, telling him he wasn’t enough and would never be. On days that happened, Atsumu focused every ounce of energy he had into his tosses so that he wouldn’t have to entertain the whispers. If you don’t talk about your demons, they eventually cease to exist. Except in the real world, things didn’t work like that and Atsumu Miya was slowly drifting away to a place there was no return from.</p><p>The doorbell rang just then and Atsumu reluctantly got to his feet, trudging over to greet his teammates who were probably home from the dinner. Opening the door, he was slightly taken aback to see only Sakusa standing there, struggling to even stand and Atsumu drew the conclusion that Bokuto had imposed the alcohol upon him, because there was one thing Atsumu Miya was certain about and that was that Sakusa Kiyoomi did not drink.</p><p>“Miya,” Sakusa slurred and Atsumu liked how foreign his name tasted on Sakusa’s tongue, laced with regret and brutal honesty. </p><p>“Come on,” Atsumu murmured, helping the wing spiker stand on his own two feet and he took one of Sakusa’s hands to put around his shoulder. Heading towards the latter’s bedroom, Atsumu lay him gently on the bed and removed his mask, pausing to remove his socks and jacket too before leaving the room.</p><p>The hall was deafeningly silent and Atsumu craved for some noise because he knew what the silence entailed and it was never pretty. Throwing Sakusa’s socks and jacket into the laundry basket which already reeked of sweat and throwing his mask into the spiker’s backpack, he reached for his phone on the couch and dialled a number he knew by heart.</p><p>Osamu picked up on the first ring, Atsumu heaving a sigh of relief when his brother’s familiar voice resonated throughout the apartment. </p><p>
  <i>“Tsumu’, it’s like fucking midnight. Ya good?”</i>
</p><p>Atsumu dissected each word Osamu had said and segmented them into sections like how you would do a slice of tangerine. Was he good? Was he doing good? How long could you live a lie before people started to notice?</p><p>
  <i>“Oi, adopted prick’. Ya there?”</i>
</p><p>Atsumu was quickly pulled out of his reverie upon hearing Osamu’s annoyed tone and he nodded in response before realising his twin couldn’t see him. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Just checking up. How’s the shop?”</p><p>
  <i>“Ya sure yer’ not running a fucking fever or somethin? I could have sworn ya never cared about me before.”</i>
</p><p>Atsumu scowled, “piss off will ya? I’m being fuckin’ genuine over here.”</p><p>
  <i>“Hold on a sec, I’m going to the balcony. Rin is asleep and by the way ya keep shouting he’s gonna be up in no time.”</i>
</p><p>Atsumu felt bile coat his throat when his brother mentioned his boyfriend and had to refrain himself from audibly gagging. Sometimes he despised how his brother had everything he had ever wanted. A good life with an amazing boyfriend and running his own business. Atsumu had all those too with the exception of a boyfriend he wasn’t looking for but somehow it still felt as though it wasn’t enough – as though he wasn’t enough.</p><p>
  <i>“Okay Tsumu, tell me what the fuck exactly is going on with ya or I swear I’m calling Shoyo and asking him to pester you 24/7 until I get an answer.”</i>
</p><p>Osamu Miya was a pain most of the time; but he was also Atsumu’s brother and the only one who knew what went on in his brother’s head on the days Atsumu couldn’t bring himself to leave his room.</p><p>“Osamu do ya think I’m worthy of being loved?”</p><p>There was another brief moment of silence and Atsumu immediately regretted his decision, wanting to reclaim the words and swallow them down once more, washing them away like the tides that carried him to shore. This was it, he had ruined yet another good thing he had because of his insecurity. Now his own brother hated him and-</p><p>
  <i>“Tsumu’, get out of yer’ head and listen to me. Everyone is worthy of being loved; why are ya suddenly the only exception? Ya do realise you tend to give more than you take?”</i>
</p><p>Atsumu pinched the bridge of his nose, the faint throbbing at his temple signalling the onslaught of an incoming migraine and he hit his head against the armrest of the couch, pressing his thumb to each of his fingers in a half-hearted effort to stop the tide that was rising too high for his liking. </p><p>
  <i>Not really? I just feel like this isn’t me anymore and I don’t even know who I am anymore and I just feel like it’s all too much sometimes for me to even deal with the mess I am. If I can’t even handle my own chaos, who would want to do it for me? I barely know myself these days so how can I expect someone else to?</i>
</p><p>Those were the words Atsumu wanted to say; but somehow they transcribed to a lie of merely two words and Atsumu hated himself for lying to his own brother but sometimes that was the best route to go down. </p><p>“I know. Sorry for disturbing ya at this hour, Osamu. Go sleep, Rin must be looking for ya. I’ll call ya again soon, goodnight.”</p><p>
  <i>‘Wait, Tsumu’-“</i>
</p><p>The click that resonated throughout the darkness had never sounded so loud to Atsumu’s ears and the tears came streaming down before he even realised it. The tides rose again, and Atsumu Miya found himself lost at sea once more.</p>
<hr/><p>Morning found the setter sprawled across the couch with his legs dangling off the couch haphazardly, his hand draped over the armrest and his phone almost falling off the table by the way it kept vibrating. Groaning, Atsumu awoke to the golden sunlight streaming through their balcony and he cursed himself for forgetting to draw the curtains last night. Reaching for his phone, he ignored the 9 text messages from his brother and opened the MSBY group chat first.</p><p>
  <i>Meian: no training today. Get some rest; we’ll meet tmr.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Bokuto: YAY!</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Hinata: BEST DAY EVER</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Sakusa: Bokuto I swear to God I am going to kill you.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Bokuto: shit</i>
</p><p>Atsumu smiled as he realised his suspicions about Bokuto coaxing Sakusa to drink was true after all and he quickly shot back a text to confirm he had read the message.</p><p>
  <i>Atsumu: aite</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Hinata: MIYA-SAN. WE MISSED YOU</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Bokuto: TSUM-TSUM. WHY DIDN’T YOU COME LAST NIGHT?</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Atsumu: sorry guys, was down with a cold</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Meian; it’s fine, Atsumu, just take it easy for today</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Atsumu: will do, captain.</i>
</p><p>Sakusa came into the room just then and Atsumu got to his feet slowly, getting off the couch to make room for Sakusa who hesitantly took a seat beside him.</p><p>“How’s yer head?” Atsumu asked in a low tone, grabbing the unopened water bottle that was on the floor and passing it to his teammate. </p><p>“Hurts,” Sakusa groaned. “Fucking Bokuto and his stupid, stupid games. I am going to kill him I swear to God.”</p><p>Atsumu laughed softly and tilted his head to stare at Sakusa who arched an eyebrow at the former. “What? Do I look like shit? Cos I am aware of the fact that I have not showered since practice last night but everything hurts and I feel like I am going to die from this hangover.”</p><p>“No,” Atsumu shook his head. “Ya look as beautiful as ever.”</p><p>A slight crimson blush tinged Sakusa’s cheeks and he coughed to avoid Atsumu from noticing it. “Shut up, Miya. Anyway, you said you have a cold?”</p><p>“I lied,” Atsumu gingerly replied, getting up from his seat. “I just didn’t want to go out yesterday cos I was tired.” </p><p>“Oh,” Sakusa replied, not knowing what else to respond as he sat there and slowly sipped the water. </p><p>“I’ll make miso soup,” Atsumu offered. “Ya just rest today.”</p><p>Sakusa arched an eyebrow this time. “Osamu isn’t the only one who cooks in the family?”</p><p>Atsumu placed a hand over his heart and feigned a hurt look at Sakusa who almost choked on his water. “Yer words wound me, Omi-omi.”</p><p>“Alright,” Sakusa got up slowly. “I’m gonna go shower first then.”</p><p>Atsumu watched as the curly-haired man made his way down the hall and smiled to himself, getting out the ingredients for the soup from the fridge. It didn’t take him too long to recall the recipe he had made with Osamu a few times after a night out had taken a sharp turn.</p><p>He left the miso soup on the stove and proceeded to cook rice, scrambling to find some umeboshi to top it with. Taking his phone out, Atsumu noticed Meian had sent the link to their recent practice video which was posted on their official Instagram page and he clicked to watch. He frowned when he noticed a few of his tosses were off but didn’t make much of it until he scrolled down to read the comments. One in particular stood out to him.</p><p>
  <i>“is that blonde setter alright? Is he really playing for a division 1 team when he can barely toss properly?”</i>
</p><p>Hinata who was active on the page had immediately blocked the user and defended Atsumu. But once one word managed to infiltrate Atsumu’s mind, all the walls he had built around him came crashing down into ashes and he suddenly felt as though he couldn’t breathe. </p><p>He held onto the edge of the kitchen counter and found his hands were trembling when he looked down. His head was starting to spin and he felt cold sweat drench his shirt as he struggled to regain his composure. His efforts failing, he bent down and leaned against the drawers, closing his eyes and counting to ten to try and pace his erratic heartbeat.</p><p>But it wasn’t working; nothing was. Atsumu wanted to scream at how cruel this world was and how cruel it was towards him but at that moment all he hoped for was this pain to pass because God only knew he was struggling to hold on. </p><p>A familiar voice laced with concern jolted him back to reality as he kept his eyes shut and drowned out everything the person was saying.</p><p>“Hey, hey Miya! Open your eyes, come on, come on. Breathe, Miya. You’re not fucking breathing. Atsumu!”</p><p>Atsumu opened his eyes and gasped to see Sakusa staring at him worriedly, the spiker’s hands resting on both his cheeks and he felt tears stream down again, but this time they were from relief. He had been rescued from the sea and it felt like salvation and Sakusa was looking so beautiful and only in the aftermath of it all did Atsumu realise, that maybe he was in love with this man who was looking at him like he was the only thing that mattered right now because in his 23 years of living, Atsumu had never felt how it was to be looked at alone.</p><p>It was always Atsumu and Osamu, Osamu and Atsumu. Atsumu had nothing against his twin but the tendency to always have Osamu beside him in everything he did; even named as one unit instead of two separate entities (the Miya twins), it had taken a toll on Atsumu and he refused to admit that it had become detrimental to his health over the years. But now, Sakusa was looking at him and panicking too because Atsumu could see the fear reflected in his hazel eyes but somehow, Sakusa understood him and Atsumu couldn’t help but feel as though he was in love with this man and Sakusa liked him enough to help him too. </p><p>“Atsumu,” Sakusa called him sharply this time and Atsumu snapped out of his reverie, forcing himself to meet Sakusa’s gaze. “You alright?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Atsumu whispered and reached out to grasp Sakusa’s sweater, just to feel something tangible so that he could snap out of the haze he was in because everything was too blurry and he felt as though he was falling through the cracks. </p><p>Sakusa helped him up onto the chair and poured a glass of water for the setter who gladly accepted it and downed it in one gulp, tapping his fingers against the surface rapidly.</p><p>“Do you want to talk about it?” Sakusa questioned, taking the glass out of his grasp before he ended up breaking it. </p><p>Atsumu pondered over the offer, moulding it in his hands like a piece of clay and he was tempted to accept it. But revelation meant weakness and Atsumu Miya was a lot of things but he was not weak. Shaking his head, he smiled at Sakusa and made sure the smile didn’t betray any trace of emotion besides joy. “Let’s eat, the soup is getting cold.”</p><p>“Miya,” Sakusa started, stepping tentatively on the stones surrounding the statue that was Atsumu Miya and making his way across the rough terrain that were his lies and façade Sakusa knew was falling apart slowly but surely. “You need to talk to me or I can’t help you.”</p><p>Atsumu frowned as he looked down at his hands which had crescent-shaped indents and streaks of crimson staining them. “I don’t recall asking for your help, Omi-omi.”</p><p>“Oh my God,” Sakusa exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air as he yelled in frustration at the setter who looked so forlorn yet refused to admit the problem. “Miya, have you looked at yourself? You look so fucking lost and you’ve been avoiding us not only last night, but the past <i>week.</i> You’re always training by yourself after everyone has gone back and not going out with us and lying to everyone you know. Atsumu, how long do you think you can keep living this life if you don’t tell anyone anything?”</p><p>Atsumu listened to Sakusa berate him, focusing on the latter’s heavy breathing and he wanted to reach out and grab onto the lifeline Sakusa had thrown him yet something was holding him back and he shook his head, the ghost of a smile playing on the corner of his lips. </p><p>“I <i>have</i> been living this life, Omi-omi. I’m like a sailor who keeps getting drawn to a siren’s voice to crash on the rocks except the lighthouse manages to save me every time but every time I want to swim over, I find there’s an anchor chaining me to the ocean floor. Tell me, Omi-omi. Is the anchor saving me from drifting away? Or is it holding me back from reaching the lighthouse? Because these days I can’t seem to differentiate anymore and I think I’m losing it.”</p><p>“Miya-“</p><p>“I can’t place my problems on someone else’s shoulders because it isn’t their burden to bear. The weight of the world rests heavy on my back but Atlas managed to carry it and I will too, even if I’m alone.”</p><p>“Atsumu! Shut the fuck up and listen to me!” Sakusa snapped. “Everyone is reaching out to take your hand but you keep avoiding because of this whole self-emancipation ideology you seem to have. It isn’t fucking selfish to ask for help; it’s highly needed often times than not.”</p><p>Rage was flowing through Sakusa’s veins and it hummed low like static electricity and he felt the need to connect his fist with Atsumu’s arm, over and over and over like a broken record as the setter simply accepted it.</p><p>“You shut yourself out from the rest of the world yet demand answers to questions that can only be answered if you don’t think about yourself for just a split second. But no, it always has to be about you, doesn’t it, Miya? No wonder everyone hates you!”</p><p>The last punch hit bone and Sakusa hissed at his bruised knuckles, heading over to the sink to run it under cold water to lessen the sting. When he turned back, he saw the setter had his head down and judging by the way his shoulders were trembling, he was crying and Sakusa felt remorse flow through every inch of his anatomy; but words were hard to take back once said and Atsumu looked up to meet his gaze before saying the two words Sakusa dreaded the most.</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>Wiping his tears away, Atsumu got up and grabbed his training jacket from the couch. “Eat the soup before it gets cold,” he reminded Sakusa and headed out.</p><p>“Miya-“</p><p>The door slammed shut and Sakusa found himself alone in the apartment, guilt weighing heavy on his bones. Before he could decide on what to do next, Atsumu’s phone rang and he hurried to answer it, not bothering to check who it was.</p><p>
  <i>“Oi, Tsumu’.”</i>
</p><p>“Uh,” Sakusa rested his hand on the nape of his neck. “This is Kiyoomi.”</p><p><i>“Kiyoomi!”</i>, Osamu exclaimed excitedly on the other end. <i>“How are ya? How’s life?”</i></p><p>“Not good,” Sakusa admitted. “I might have gotten into a fight with your brother and he went for a run instead of talking it out.”</p><p>Osamu cursed loudly and quickly yelled out an apology when Sakusa heard Suna’s familiar voice chiding him. </p><p>Sakusa sighed and took a seat on the couch, leaning his head back against the fabric. “Don’t you think Miya is a bit too egoistic at times? He loves himself too much, don’t you think?”</p><p>Osamu fell silent until a laugh escaped him, but it sounded forced and somehow sad. <i>“Tsumu’ is a very loving person, Kiyoomi. He loves, a lot. Ever since we were kids, he learned to love others before loving himself. He loves so much that he’ll do anything without asking something in return. He has so much love to give, too much at times. Really if there is any problem with Tsumu’, it’s that he gives too much love until there is nothing left for himself.”</i></p><p>Shards of the argument that had transpired earlier ran through Sakusa’s head and he realised that Osamu was right. Atsumu was just looking for someone who would and could love him as much as he loved others but somehow nobody could see through the façade he had worn all these years and it was dragging him down a path there was no return from. </p><p>“Fuck,” Sakusa cursed. “Fuck, fuck, I fucked up.”</p><p>Osamu sighed on the other end. <i>“I love my brother; but there’s this dark place in his head he keeps going back to and sometimes I don’t know how to pull him back. Please, Kiyoomi, he’ll listen to you.”</i></p><p>The doorknob clicked and Sakusa quickly ended the call as Atsumu stepped into the room. “Forgot my phone.”</p><p>“Miya,” Sakusa gestured for the blonde setter to take a seat beside him on the couch. “Just, hear me out for a second.”</p><p>Next to Sakusa was the last place Atsumu wanted to be right now; but he had always put others before him and this time was no exception as he slowly settled down beside the wing spiker. </p><p>“I’m sorry for whatever I said back there,” Sakusa started off with an apology. “I’m sorry for saying you only think about yourself because <i>God</i> Miya I don’t know why I didn’t notice this earlier but you pour your love onto everyone and everything and you keep giving and giving but never taking and I’m begging you to <i>please</i>, just this once, please take my hand because I promise I won’t let go so easy.”</p><p>Never once in his life did Atsumu ever hear someone wanted to love him as much as he loved them and to see this wing spiker he adored with all his heart baring his entire soul and offering to love him the way he never thought he deserved, Atsumu felt the waves rising again but this time when it consumed him whole, he found himself hanging onto Sakusa’s hand and he wasn't drowning anymore.</p><p>Reaching across the couch and closing the gap, Atsumu reached for Sakusa’s hand and took it in his own, tracing every line and pattern on his palm like drawing a constellation between stars in the sky. </p><p>
  <i>We each have our own stars; we all have our own stories. </i>
</p><p>“Is it selfish, Omi-omi,” Atsumu started in a low tone barely above a whisper, “if I ask you to love me?”</p><p>“No, Miya,” Sakusa shook his head as he wrapped the blonde in a warm embrace and threaded his fingers in his hair – two men finding each other in the warm afternoon sun. “It isn’t selfish at all.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading! Come yell at me on <a href="https://twitter.com/cherrybomb_su">Twitter</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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